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“What?” he snapped.
“Something snag your attention, big man?” Ryland asked, voice full of mirth. “Because you almost seem a little infatuated.”
Gray wanted to knock that smug smile off the prettyboy surfer’s face. “Don’t,” he warned between gritted teeth.
“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your time with our unexpected guest.” Zane sent him an encouraging smirk. “You want me to bunk with Pharaoh and Saint tonight?Give you some privacy?”
“No…” Gray growled, trying to ignore Aubrey’s bright tinkle of laughter floating in off the deck. The girls were giggling about something again and he wondered what. It was starting to drive him a little nuts.
“Maybe you should stop punishing yourself, Demon. What happened with your team wasn’t your fault.” Zane’s voice was kind, but firm.
And Gray didn’t want to fucking talk about it. He stood up and finished the last swallow of his beer. “I’m going to take a shower.”
Gray knew Zane meant well, but thinking, much less talking, about the clusterfuck that happened last year was off the table. Right now, he planned to do what he always did—shut that shit down and lock it up tight. And pray it wouldn’t start leaking out when he least expected or wanted.
Vulnerability didn’t look good on Gray and he hated it more than anything. Appearing weak was one of his biggest fears. He’d been built to be a fierce warrior and it’s what he excelled at doing. What good was he if he couldn’t fight? Like an injured lion, he’d be useless. Because if a lion couldn’t keep his pride secure, he’d be killed or run off by a stronger male.
Stepping into the bathroom, Gray shed his clothes, turned the shower on and stepped into the tub. After turning the water as cold as he could tolerate, he forced all thoughts of Aubrey and her damn gardenia scent out of his head.
She’d be leaving in a day or two. And he’d never see her again.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Gray slapped a hand against the tiles and let the water hit his face, hoping the cold temperature would drive all his hot thoughts away. But, it didn’t. Angry that he couldn’t stop obsessing over the curvy, little brunette, he did the only thing he could. Turned the water warmer, fisted his cock and found temporary release from the lust thrumming through his body.
Unfortunately, his relief was short-lived. An hour later, he was lying on the couch, once again thinking about Aubrey, who was now curled up in his bed. After she left, he couldn’t wait to sleep in those same sheets and inhale her soft scent because he didn’t plan on washing them any time soon. Hell no. Not until every last trace of gardenia had faded.
Sleep eluded him and he tossed and turned for hours. The damn couch was too small, his thoughts refused to shut down and his dick ached. Eventually, at some point, he finally drifted off into a fitful sleep.
And, of course, the nightmare came, just like it always did. Baring its sharp, bloodied fangs and snapping. Alwayssnap-snap-snappingat him.
As usual, Gray was with his team, deep in the Colombian jungle. There were eight of them and they’d been through hell and back on several missions, molding them into a tight-knit group. No one understood him like these men, his brothers. They would die for each other. And, unfortunately, that was exactly what happened.
The fucking humidity made his clothes stick to his skin and all the damn equipment strapped all over his body only made Gray more miserable. The sour stench of his sweat filled his nostrils. They’d been traversing through the jungle for more than eight hours. He couldn’t wait to complete the op and get the fuck out of there. Even before they jumped out of the plane and started heading to Alvaro “El Escorpión”Mesa’s compound, he’d had a bad feeling.
A snake slithered by and a bird cried out in the green canopy above. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he reached a hand around and squeezed.
That was never a good sign.
Like all good nightmares, this one started off exactly how Gray remembered. Then it took a strange and terrifying twist, mixing actual events with false memories.
After trudging through the dense, dangerous jungle for what felt like forever, they finally reached the fortress that Mesa called home. And just like on the real op, they quickly found out their intel had been wrong. His team had been told there would be approximately fifteen rebels within the compound’s walls. Before they could even breach the wall, tangoes began to close in from all sides…as if they’d been forewarned.
Gunfire erupted as Gray and his team tried to fight their way out of the ambush. Eight against fifteen was one thing. Eight against fifty? That was something entirely different. And the men quickly discovered they didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell.
His team was armed to the teeth and highly-trained. The most elite operators on the face of the planet. But, no matter how hard they fought, the odds were impossible.
A dense, dream-like fog swirled around Gray as endless tangoes surrounded them and began to boldly close in. He fired his weapon until he ran out of bullets. Sweating profusely, hunkered down behind a thick tree, he glanced over at his buddy beside him.
“Outta ammo,” Andy stated grimly.
“Same,” Gray grunted and pulled out his Ka-Bar. “We need to keep moving backwards, fight our way through that north section of jungle and get to the evac point.”
Because if they didn’t, they’d die in that godforsaken, snake-ridden rainforest.
They’d been separated from the rest of their team and comms had stopped working. Everything about the mission screamed set up. But who had set them up to fail? And why?
Gray’s stomach churned as he and Andy dropped low and crept forward, every one of his senses on high alert. They only made it a short distance before rebels stepped from the undergrowth, appearing like wraiths, shooting their weapons. Andy flew backwards, hit by several bullets, and fell to the ground as Gray threw himself into a clump of foliage, miraculously escaping therat-a-tat-tatof machine guns. Clutching his Ka-Bar in a death grip, he rolled over just as a rebel soldier pounced on him. Gray knocked the gun from the man’s hand and swung his knife upward, gutting the asshole.
Shoving the rebel’s lifeless body off, Gray scrambled to his feet, grabbed the downed soldier’s weapon and ran straight into another rebel. Gray fired, taking out one, two, three more tangoes, but they kept coming at him. Like that scene inThe Matrix Reloadedwhere an endless army of Mr. Andersons kept attacking Neo.
